


Chicago

by ikknowplaces



Category: The Lorien Legacies - Pittacus Lore
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Fuck Canon, Gunshot Wounds, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, More characters to be added, More tags to be added, Near Death Experiences, Remix, Reunions, Science Fiction, Timeline?, anything beyond tro9 doesn't exist, scenes collection, will update as I go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:41:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21663115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ikknowplaces/pseuds/ikknowplaces
Summary: bits of my never-written chicago au. mainly vek/sandor and lex/crayton, with all the other kids around. first chapter is a full one, then it's all scenes. will try to stick to the chronological order
Relationships: Crayton (Lorien Legacies)/Lexa | GUARD, Devektra (Lorien Legacies)/Sandor (Lorien Legacies)
Kudos: 1





	1. The End

**Author's Note:**

> first chapter and some background info. vek, lex and crayton get on the ship, while nine and sandor are already on their way to the earth. 11 years later, vek and sandor meet. not so sure how much i like this chapter since i wrote it 2 years ago

Long ago, there was a small planet called Lorien. The people of Lorien, called Lorics, lived in peace inside their perfect planet. The planet provided the Lorics with everything they needed, flowing water, bountiful crops and enough land for all of them for thousands of years. 

The Lorics were secluded people but they shared and gave the planets around them their resources and technology and asked nothing in return. They lived in such constant harmony that even among each other they showed no cruelty and war never took place on their ground.

Some of the Lorics had special powers they named "Legacies" and those who were blessed to have them were called Garde. The other half of the planet was called Cepans, in charge of keeping Lorien running and teaching the Grade how to control their unique powers. 

Despite the peace, someone needed to look after Lorien and its people. That group was called the Great Elders, nine ancient Garde who wrote the rules Lorien lived by. While most of the planet showed no resistance to those unquestionable rules- where to study, which job they'd be working in the future, what is their role- some Lorics felt like they didn't fit the perfect society of Lorien.

Next to Lorien was another planet, Mogadore. Mogadore was the complete opposite of Lorien, a planet whose people were slowly overusing and destroying. The Lorics used their knowledge and advanced technology to flourish the planet further, while the Mogadorian people drained their own.

One day, the Mogs attacked Lorien. Their attack wasn't a quick, foolish one, born out of jealousy and bad temper. The hit the Loric's space bays, bombed the main cities, destroyed all of their ships and killed every Loric they saw. Their hateful attack was planned to the last detail, starting from at what hour the first missile was launched to bringing down the last house.

In this chaos, nine young Garde and their Cepans climbed a spaceship that hovered over the ground in Lorien's airstrip. Before they left their ruined planet, the nine children were blessed with a charm that would protect them. As long as they stayed apart, any attack that was landed on them would harm the one who sent it. But the charm had one fault: because the children were ordered by number, they could only be hurt in that order. Number One was the first in the Mogs kill list, with Nine being the last.

With that burden to save their planet and avenge the deaths of their people, all while living in fear they might be next, the children and their protectors left Lorien, the last survivors.

Or so they thought. Shortly after them, in the outskirts of Lorien's capital, another ship was ready to fly. It burst through the Loric Museum of Exploration, piercing a hole through the glass ceiling of the institute. On that ship screamed their lungs out a Cepan named Crayton holding a baby in his arms, a Garde named Devektra who just lost her career as an international singer and a very troubled pilot named Lexa who was freshly assigned with making an old spaceship fly.

After a year and a half of being space-sick and a stack of food that was running out, they landed in the middle of the desert inside a country the humans called Egypt. The air was burning and much heavier than Lorien's, but it was better than recycled spaceship air. They gathered their stuff and their animals and continued forward. 

In the ten years that passed, they managed to do incredible things. Crayton raised the baby Ella to be the person her parents wanted her to be, a sweet girl with a warm heart; Lexa protected the Grade through the internet, deleting stories that could harm them and opened an investigating site of her own; And Devektra, who killed a countless number of Mogadorians. 

Three weeks into living on Earth they found out the Mogs reached this planet too and were determined to finish their job in wiping out the Loric kind. They decided that chasing the Garde would lead the Mogs to them and that waiting was better for now.

Looking back into that decision was almost ironic when they were sharing a plane with three Garde members they found. 

A month ago Crayton insisted they should fly to Spain, believing a Garde lived there and that she was in danger. He was right. That Garde was Marina, a gentle girl with the ability to heal and see in the dark. The Mogs knew her general location for a while and as soon as they realized who Marina was, they attacked. 

While fighting, Crayton lost the only Chimaera they still had, Olivia. The fight was bad, the Mogs were closing on them from every side of the lake they were in when another Garde appeared, Number Six.

With Six and Marina they got to India and after some tests in a river, found Number Eight as well. Deep in the mountains where Eight lived there was a cave, its walls covered with paintings that tell the future and show the past. Again, the Mogs found them but they escaped by using Eight's teleportation Legacy and a stone called Loralite. 

The stone took them to place in Australia where they got on a plane headed to the United States. Within half a day they arrived in Chicago, Illinois, where another Garde was. Devektra was interested in that Garde and even more in his Cepan because he was with her the night Lorien was attacked.

"We should go now, I'm telling you," she stepped back and forth in the room she shared with Crayton and Lex. Eight and Marina were sitting on the bed, moving their heads from side to side like in a tennis game.

"Vek, I know you want to see him, but think about this," Crayton held her hands until the angry look faded from her face. "What are we going to do? Just knock on his door?"

She didn't answer him, only let out a tired sigh, but he knew she understood his point. "Are you sure that's where he lives?" she leaned over Lexa who had her laptop in front of her in the corner of the room.

"Definitely. The signal leads here." A grey window of code was opened on the screen full of words and functions only Lexa knew how to pass. Another window with a map on it, showing a picture of a great silver tower.

"So what do we do?" she turned around to look at everyone in the room, receiving nothing but blank faces and shrugs. 

What they did was mostly sneaking around with improvised undercover outfits and watching the penthouse. Vek first caught a glimpse at Sandor, Nine's Cepan, while she was drinking coffee at a shop from across the street and nearly spit her drink.

He was taller than she remembered and a lot muscular as well, nothing like the boy she met on Lorien. He ditched the green LDA tunic for a suit and grew a beard, but she recognized his face. 

She also recognized Nine, who went outside for an afternoon jog. When he was younger, his hair reached the tip of his shoulders and from the ponytail he had now she guessed he hadn't stopped liking his hair long. 

Two weeks moved on like this until a night she left the hotel for a late walk. Crayton and Lex urged her not to walk alone, but she needed to clear her head and be alone. 

She knew her way back, but the city confused her. The streets were nothing like the neighborhoods on Lorien, too dark and twisted. Over the years and the many countries they had lived in, she had gotten used to the way Earth was built, but Chicago was different, she found out now.

On Lorien, every road would lead you to a beautiful park or a well-preserved building like LDA. Cars would hover slowly, without making any sound, as children skipped on the sidewalks. Each traffic light and sign would look like it rained the other night, painted with shine. Not a single flaw could be seen on Lorien.

The condition of the road she was in front of was a lot poorer. Lamp posts blinked with light, serving an electrical sound, while some of them failed to work. Parts of the pavement were broken or misplaced and a few signs were ruined with what appeared to be graffiti. The night dyed everything in black, and she regretted her decision to walk alone.

Her only worry was the Mogadorians. If they would show up, she believed she could take them down on her own, something she had done multiple times in the past. Getting into a battle would cause destruction, and the place would turn into a crime scene. They were already worried about being watched by the Mogs, and attention was the last thing she wanted to draw to herself.

Thinking about the Mogs made her more tired than wary. It has been ten years since they have landed on the Earth, and over eleven since they left Lorien. Each day was filled with anxiety of being captured, confusion caused by the attempts to understand the human society, and aching longing to their home planet. She had felt the war on her skin more than once, memories that sometimes haunted her dreams, faded scars on her body. Running and getting hurt brought weight on her shoulders.

Their last encounter with the Mogs was two years ago. That was also the worst one they have had so far. They were staying in a cheap motel on the side of a long road in the desert when the Mogs ambushed them. They took them by surprise and the fight was bad.

In most times the Mogs started a fight, they didn’t come through the door. Because their little room didn’t have any windows, the door was blown up, and a group of them marched in. When they had just unpacked, they all agreed to have their weapons inside a big drawer facing their beds. During the attack, the Mogs blocked it, and they were left unarmed.

She thought things would get better once she sliced the first line and used her telekinesis to rip the drawer open, giving Crayton and Lexa their guns, but the room was getting cramped and they had no way out. That was when a bullet ripped through her left shoulder. It took two months for the wound to heal, and four until she could fully move her arm again.

From that day, they had trained without using any guns as well. She returned to her days back on LDA- when she saw the fighting lessons as a fun way of meeting new friends and testing out her abilities- and taught them everything she knew. All Garde on Lorien were told they were practicing to protect their planet, but she never imagined she would live to do so.

It was also difficult to realize how close they all were to Sandor now. When she had fought on Lorien, she knew he had gotten on a ship to leave the planet with a Garde that was her nephew. Lexa later informed them that eight other Cepans had been inside the ship and that it was headed towards Earth. Having someone you know on Earth made her feel like Lorien still existed, that their ties with the planet had never been broken. The fact that this person could die every day, that was the side that kept her awake during the night and made her want to find him so much. And there she was.

They were still uncertain about how they would approach him. As preposterous as her idea sounded, she wanted to simply knock on his door because she couldn’t bear to pass another day in his city without him. Crayton suggested they should contact him through his computer and make it clear they were not the enemy before meeting him. Lexa’s plan was to watch the John Hancock skyscraper until Sandor would leave his apartment and follow his tracks.

She wondered how it was, to live in a crowded city as Chicago. To hide. They had never lived in a real house, it was always secluded cabins in the middle of what could almost be a forest or side road motels with sketchy residents. When they had just found out where Sandor lived, they looked the address again to be sure. None of them considered using all the jewelry they had to buy a penthouse. Crayton had been in such a state of disbelief that he couldn’t help but laugh, saying Sandor was most likely the only Cepan to come up with this solution.

A drop of rain fell on the back of her neck and rolled down her shirt, cutting her chain of thoughts. Devektra stopped walking and looked up at the sky. Clouds that were just a shade away from reaching the black color of the sky stood in their place, gathered together. She prayed that what she thought of wouldn’t happen, and cursed her bad luck after another drop fell.

Soon enough, the sidewalk was covered with rain, and she began to pick up for speed. Cold wind blew on her body like sharp ice made knives. The fabric of her shirt stuck to the sides of her body and she was thankful she was wearing a leather jacket. Her hair joined into dark locks and a thunder roared above her.

Given of her current place, she still was fifteen minutes away from their house. The amount of rain soaked in her clothes heavied on her, and if the storm would turn harsh, she had a long walk to expect. There was no place she could hide under without exposing herself, no bus station or a store with a roof. Stopping was too dangerous because she would let down her guard and she refused to be caught with her hands tied again.

She continued to walk. A minute passed, then three, then five. At this point, the cold had gotten inside her bones and she hugged herself, shivering. Her first instinct was to surround her body with light and use her telekinesis to shield herself from the rain, to embrace how warm that feeling would be. But she couldn’t use her Legacies on plain sight, even if the odds were that no one was looking.

No person was outside. No car drove by. Fog levitated over the ground like white smoke and the rain dimmed the light coming from the lamps, limiting her sight. The drops didn’t stop coming, they crashed into the floor, filling her ears with the sound of glass being shattered.

In Lorien, during the winter, when her life didn’t include going to war with the neighbor planet, she wished it would finally rain, so she could wear her comfortable sweaters and lay under a warming blanket. Once, while she was performing, a sudden wave of clouds came and washed over every person she was singing to, her included. Now she wished she had Six’s ability to manipulate the weather, so the forecasters would talk tomorrow about how the storm vanished.

It wasn’t that long ago when they had listened to Crayton’s advice and flew to Spain, following his faith that a Garde lived in a town called Avila. For over a month they have to lower their trips out of the house, afraid they’d be discovered. Ella acted as the connecting agent between them and Marina, the girl Crayton had found.

Like any other place, the Mogs reached Marina’s hometown, and there wasn’t time to hide anymore. They planned to fly to India with Marina, searching for another member of the Garde, when Six showed up in the battlefield. Together, the completed the sequence of Six, Seven and Eight and now were about to reunite with Nine as well.

With each Garde they traveled with, the wider the smile that spread across her face, and the stronger the hope she felt in her heart. None of them were Mentor Cepans, but they had agreed a long time ago that the ten Garde children were gifted with something beyond their understanding, beyond anything LDA could evaluate. Judging by the few glimpses she saw of their Legacies- Six’s powerful thunderstorms, Marina’s incredible healing power and Eight’s skill of teleporting they weren’t going to give in without a fight.

Ella savored on every ability her new friends had, asking them to repeat their actions and explain them to her. From the gazes she had switched with Crayton, she understood they were both worried Ella might feel down because her own Legacies hadn’t developed yet, but the little girl was happy and seeing her teammates only made her excited.

Being the tenth in line, Ella reminded her of the one before her, whose name was “Nine” now. She remembered happier times on Lorien with her older brother’s son, babysitting him, running with him to LDA, putting him to sleep in the evening after he spent the afternoon playing in her yard. Even when he was just a child of six years, he had something special in him no one could ignore. He would never sit down, always jumping around and causing his parents to chase him. His sassy remarks were innocent coming from a young kid, making people laugh. He would make a mess in her living room with his dolls, car toys and plastic dinosaurs, but would organize his games twice as fast if he was asked to.

A vivid memory she had was of Nine holding her hands, wrapping his little hands around her fingers, asking her to show him her light. She had pulled her hands away and made little orbs of light appear in the air, flying around the ceiling. Nine had watched in awe, mesmerized, before he leaped down from the couch and jumped high, trying to reach one of the circles of light. After she brought some to his hands, he had announced to her that one day, he would be the strongest Garde on Lorien and that he would make their family proud.

She barely noticed the noise of a car approaching her. She heard the engine working, the wheels against the rain covered road, too many squeaks for driving in a weather like this. At first, she didn’t bother to turn around, it was safer if no one saw her face anyway, and she didn’t think the driver even saw her. The car drove closer to her, she turned her head to take a look at its owner, and their eyes locked.

Black hair, pushed back a little. Clipped close beard that darkened his face even more. Over the safety belt, a two-piece suit above a white buttoned up shirt. Shining, shining green eyes. Just like in the photo.

It was Sandor. And he was facing her.

Time seemed to slow down as they stared into each other’s eyes. The blood ran out of her face, thoughts screaming in her head, frozen underneath the pouring rain as she translated every detail in his face. It was all too much.

He snapped out of the shock faster than her and hit the brakes, clenching the steering wheel tight. A lamp-post stood inches from his car’s front bumper and he was a few seconds away from hitting hit. He kept his eyes on the lamp only for a moment, before he returned to her. His sudden stop made her breathe the freezing air again, but she still couldn’t move. He was so close, all she needed to do was lean over and reach out with her arm.

His eyes were wide, his chest moved up and down beneath his suit. “No.” was all he said.

Her breathing became heavy and slow as he stepped out of the car, not even feeling the coldness of the air or the rain soaking his clothes. Each drop that fell on his suit stained its color, but he didn’t take his eyes off of her. She thought about how her plan was ruined, how this wasn’t what was supposed to happen, and how horrible she must have looked. His old-fashioned shoes clicked on the thoroughfare as he came closer, and he stopped where the road and the sidewalk collided.

She was grateful for the rain, the sight of him after eleven years brought tears to her eyes. She wanted to smile, because this was all she truly wanted since they arrived here, but her feet were solid as stone. Her heart raced in her chest. The only part of Sandor’s body that was moving was his eyes, scanning her head to toe, trying to understand.

A lightning flashed through the heavy clouds, painting them with a white flash, as bright as her light. Blinking the drops away from her eyes, some fell on his face and rolled down his cheeks. He still had a shocked expression that caused her to panic and search for some words. Her mind was screaming at her to do something, say something, anything that wasn’t just standing.

An old memory flashed in her eyes of a younger boy throwing himself on the door of her dressing room, falling through her hangar of clothes. As he kicked off the sequins and glittering fabrics off him, he raised his head, saying only one word. All at once, she felt like she was twenty years old again, except that she didn’t have the upper hand this time. She had survived an unexpected attack on her home planet, fought the invaders who killed her species, got on a falling-apart spaceship that hadn’t been used in years, flew from countless countries to others just for the sake of running and found the last of her people. After eleven years, she was prepared for any scenario, but not for this.

“Devektra?” He finally spoke. Hearing her name on his lips made her feel younger again, a bittersweet sadness that reminded her of how they were brutally separated from each other. His voice was deeper than what she remembered, and she comforted herself with the fact that she had changed as well. Eleven years, she thought. They were gone now.

Gazed lowered, she switched between looking into his eyes and the pavement, before she wore a little smile as she squeezed her hands together.

“Yes.” Nodding, she glanced only into his eyes anymore. Tears filled her vision and turned his figure blurry, as happiness washed over her, assuring her that she did well.

A sigh of relief escaped from his lips and his face lit up, smiling even wider than she was. It hit her all at once that perhaps underneath the suit she didn’t recognize, the slicked hair, and beard she didn’t imagine he would grow, maybe there was a part of him that didn’t change.

Getting up on the pavement, he took only one step and threw himself on her with a hug. His wet hair brushed against the side of her face, arms wrapped around her back. They were both cold because of the rain, but he brought warmth to her.

“You’re alive.” He whispered, the shock in his voice loud and clear. The last time they had hugged was when Lorien was burning, when she found him outside the Chimaera club, his celebration clothes ruined and torn. Being in his arms again brought her a feeling of comfort, and let herself lean on his shoulder. “I-I don’t understand…”

All at once, the rain didn’t bother her any longer. As he pulled away, the drops seemed as nothing but gentle water falling on her skin. The hug didn’t quite stop, he held her arms, her fingers underneath his elbows. He looked into her eyes and saw a rainbow after a storm, and he was the sunlight she had been searching for.

He blinked, snapping out of the cloud of bliss that surrounded him. They were still standing under the rain as if it was a cold wind on a sunny day. His car- he had forgotten all about it and turned around.

“Let’s go inside.” He said and released his grip on her. Water splashed around his ankles as he rushed to the driver’s door and took the seat behind the steering wheel.

Her knowledge about the diversity in human automobiles wasn’t as wide as it was in other subjects, but this wasn’t a type of car she had seen a lot over the years. The seats were covered in black leather and the metal floorboard was replaced with crimson colored wool.

None of that seemed to matter to him. He leaned on the seat without a care of what would happen to the fabric and waited for her.

“Uhh,” Sensing his eyes on her, she stumbled on her words. “I’ll get water all over everything.”

“It’s okay, I don’t care.” He shook his head. On other occasions, he would be lying, but for the first time since he and Nine arrived in Chicago, his belongings didn’t mean much to him.

She slipped into the seat beside him and closed the door. The sounds of the storm have been muffled now that they were inside and her heart was beating so fast she was sure he could hear it. Sandor held the steering wheel, unable to let his gaze go off her face. She was right next to him and it felt like a dream no one can wake him up from.

The water soaked the fabric of the seat beneath her. It ran down her legs and dripped on a small plastic carpet she leaned her heels on. Her eyes moved to him and heat raised up her neck.

“We should drive,” she managed to say. “It’s not safe to stay here.”

If her face caught him in a way he couldn’t shake, her voice did it twice as much. He forced himself to come to his senses, because she was clearly uncomfortable, and turned away.

“You’re right, yeah,” he blurted out. Like these functions were delayed until the moment she spoke, he pulled up a switch with a scale that went from blue to red, turned another until it reached the middle and hit the gas.

Within a short time, hot air blew on her feet and dried up her hair. The quick launch pushed her against the seat and the three brought the feeling back to her fingers and the rest of her body.

As much as she wanted to relax, this wasn’t the time yet.

“I don’t understand, how are you here?” Every other second he moved his head from the road to her. There was a tone of relief in his voice.

“Your ship wasn’t the only one that left Lorien,” she began explaining. “There was a second one, and I was on it. I only managed to get on it because I saved the two people who were going to escape in it.”

The endless road continued and with every meter, he passed he tried to digest the information she told him. Another ship means more Lorics. “Well, who are they?”

“I suppose you’ll meet them soon,” a smile of irony cracked on her face. They have only been following him for two weeks. “Their names are Crayton and Lexa. Lexa was able to fly the ship because it belonged to a man Crayton worked for. He insisted on bringing his Garde daughter Ella to Earth and Crayton has been her Cepan ever since.”

“Another Garde. So there’s more of us,” he nodded and the car glided on the road until it came to a stop.

“Yes.” A halo formed around the red traffic light and she noticed fewer raindrops covered the windshield than before.

“Mine has been eager for a real fight. I think he might just get one now that he isn’t alone.” He watched the light and turned to her after it changed to orange.

The thought of her vigorous nephew turning into a battle-thirsty boy didn’t surprise her. Nine has always wanted to prove his worth.

“Oh no, Ella is only eleven years old, and Crayton is very protective of her.” Imagining Ella dueling with Nine was more funny than scary to her. Little Ella, standing broad-shouldered, probably not even reaching Nine’s elbows. Maybe she did have a chance. After all, she brought Eight down, and he was a lion with ten arms. “We picked up some Garde from your ship though.”

“You- Really?” His eyes were wide open.

“Numbers six to eight.”

“I can’t believe it. Five Garde members together. We might actually win this war.” A smile sneaked into his face and a wave of confidence suddenly showered on him. For ten years he has been raising Nine, without ever knowing when the war would end. The final battle was finally approaching.

They continued to move in silence. Now that the air had dried most of his body and the pieces of how Vek was in front of him fell into place, he stopped thinking about the Garde and the war. Devektra, still alive, driving in his car. He hasn’t seen in for a whole decade, the girl he kissed the night Lorien burnt. The girl who understood him better than anyone else.

“How have you been doing all those years? How did you three get along?” he asked after a while and wished that thinking and breathing weren't vital to driving, because he wasn't excelling at neither at this point.

In response, she shifted in her seat and spoke only after a few moments. Talking about life in the middle of a war was difficult for all of them. “Same as everyone, I guess. Skipping town every other month, jumping from country to country. Trying not to get killed.” A weight heavied on her left shoulder and she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, shooing a stray thought away.

Her words were all too familiar to him and he understood why she didn’t want to elaborate. Just speaking of the past years was enough to bring old wounds and memories one who rather keep locked chained. Before Nine and he settled down in Chicago, it was always running and being haunted.

“And how long have you been in Chicago? I live in-”

“John Hancock tower, I know,” she cut him off before he could finish. The puzzled look on his face made her snicker and it dawned on her how much she has missed talking with him. After all, he had no reason to suspect she knew where his home was. “When we just arrived here, Lexa saw that the streets were bursting with cameras. Hard to find, but a lot of cameras. She hacked into the system and saw the feed was being sent to another place other than, well, the government. The signal was very difficult to find, you buried it well. It took her a couple of days to find where all the data was sent to. And she found your address.”

The expression on his face changed to a smirk. He remembered the day he redirected the stream feed to the screens in one of his workshops, thinking he was clever for manipulating the system in that way. Turned out, someone was more clever than he was. “I’m looking forward to meeting her.”

“I think you’ll like Crayton as well. He laughed when he realized you live in a penthouse,” he nodded at her words, thinking back to the time when he and Nine had just arrived in the city, about his decision to buy the top apartment and all the other actions that followed it.

“I’m glad you’re here," he said. “It has been so long…”

“It has.” the back of the seat felt rough against her head and another moment of silence passed between them. Sandor smiled at her response and the grip he had around the steering wheel became undone before he clenched it again. 

Only now that the warm air had dried her and her thoughts were cohesive, she could finally take him in. The cause of the flutter in her chest wasn't panic anymore, it was hope. It wasn't the air that heated her cheeks, it was the way he looked at her. 

Another flashback from Lorien came, this time just before the last time she sang a song of her own. Terrified and alone, she stooped over the stand inside her dressing room. Then he walked in, the only person who could understand her. Even after so many years, she could still feel his hands around her back as he kissed her. The taste of his lips and the destruction she saw in her head.

Now she looked at him and wondered if there was any part of him that still loved her. Any part that shared the hope she felt.

“I’m sorry, I’m driving you nowhere," cutting off her thoughts, he turned his face back to the road. Another minute of looking into her glowing blue eyes and he might as well tell her everything about how much he missed her. "Where do you live?”

Peering out of the window, she caught a passing sign. After they had found a hotel in the city that wouldn't draw a lot of attention, she sat with Crayton and Lexa and memorized different paths back to the area. The park they drove by was a key point in one of the routes.

He waited for her answer and would have sat at the edge of his seat if he could, trying to decide which option is the better: very close or far away. Close meant she lived near him and that the distance between them wouldn't keep him up at night. Far away meant that he could drive her there and spend more time with the nostalgic feeling she brought and the connection that didn't fade away. 

Not a connection, he thought it was a spark. One that lighted up every time he managed to make her laugh. 

"I'm staying at the Tremont Hotel." A dozen of mirrors broke in his mind. He expected to hear an address or a name of a neighborhood, not a hotel. But getting an apartment in the city was a messy long work, even more for seven people at a day notice. "Do you know where it is? You can take the left turn."

"It's alright, I know," he said after she leaned forward and pointed where the road split in two, aiming to sound more nonchalant than domineering. Then he dropped the act, thinking he wasn't cool at all, especially not with his air-dried hair and creased clothes. Then he remembered he crushed into her dressing room in the night they met and the embarrassment he felt in that moment passed an amazing length of eleven years and somehow managed to become twice as stronger as it was than. 

The embarrassment soothed and he returned to the topic at hand. Hotel Tremont wasn't far away from the penthouse, a mere ride that its duration he could measure with his fingers. The so-called hotel seemed from the outside more like an old apartment building that has been going under repairs. It was wide and made out of bricks that changed their color from white to red, which only contributed to the familial look. 

He understood why they'd want to stay at a low profile hotel, even though he had given up on that option when he bought the penthouse. Blending in never worked for him and hiding in plain sight proved to be the winning choice. 

"What about you, Sandor?" he almost froze when she said his name and with such delicacy as well. "Have the Mogs been bothering you?"

"Not ever since we moved here, no." The green view closed into a grey one and they drove between private houses and small shops. A little more up the road and they would see the hotel. "The last five years have been quiet."

Hearing him made envy roll up her throat but relieve too. While they were moving from small town to another, he had a steady home. Five years without any attacks... she imagined how her life would have looked if those five years were quiet for her as well and her left shoulder turned heavy again. At least he was safe, all the times she wondered if he was alive came to her.

"I'm glad you and Nine are alright," she said and he didn't know how much she really meant it. She repeated his words, he realized and admitted to himself that he was head over heels for her. 

Breathless, she still managed to catch him off guard. It was comforting for him to see that Vek remained Vek, or that he wasn't immune to her charm all the same.

"Actually, I wanted to-" he began, hesitating.

"You can stop here," at once she said, her gaze directed to the window close to him. He turned his head left and saw they have reached the hotel's humble entrance: two metal poles holding a deep-red awning. 

At this hour, no one was at the doors to watch the who comes and who goes. The bottom floors were dark and the higher they got- the more lights began to trickle from the windows. Two consecutive rooms were lit up one floor beneath the top at the corner of the building. He only assumed one of the rooms was hers and the second was where the Garde slept. 

Opening the car door, she was already out before he could say "Oh, we're here." He got up on the pavement right when she reached to his side.

"Thank you for the drive," she moved a piece of hair behind her ear. Besides the two of them, the street was empty, on both sides, and awfully quiet. A gentle gust of wind moved the awning behind them and made the leaves of a few small bushes rustle.

"It's nothing, really." From the way her eyes narrowed along with a little smile, he could tell she was worried this ride might have been a hassle to him and he brushed off her comment with a flick of his wrist. Bumping into mythological crushes and driving them to the nearest hotel was his every night activity.

He put his hands on the pockets of his ruined tailored pants, thinking he could spend the entire night looking into her blue eyes. "I'm sorry, were you going to say something before?" she asked.

"Oh, it was nothing, just..." trailing off, he thought about what he wanted to tell her and figured it would be better to save it for later. "Come visit me at the penthouse, anytime you want."

She would have said she smiled because his grin was contagious, but the truth was she couldn't help herself. "To be honest, we've been wondering how to approach you for a while now. Is it okay if I drop by tomorrow, maybe?"

Heat rose up his cheeks. "Sure, of course." She's been watching him, which meant she still cared about him. "I like your hair, by the way," he said without any connection to what she told him so far. The last time he saw her, on Lorien, her hair was blonde. Now that bright color he remembered was replaced with black.

She moved her fingers along the edge like she had forgotten she dyed it at all and scrunch her nose, shaking her head. "It was necessary." 

They stayed in their place for a few more moments, both not wanting to leave but knowing they should. She started walking backward, feeling her friends calling her and the fatigue that slowly took over. "Well, goodnight," she raised her hand and turned away.

Still, he stared at the door she walked past. Not only that he wasn't immune to her, it, in fact, gotten even worse. "Goodnight," he waved back.

*****************************************************************  
The next minutes flew faster than any other minute of his life. He raced to the penthouse, turned off his car in his separated parking lot, ran towards the elevator where his atoms produced enough heat to nearly causing a chemical explosion alone, barely noticed Nine sitting on the couch and got out the first cleaning spray he found beneath the sink, an impressive achievement to him and every other person in the penthouse because he didn't touch a sponge since they moved in and he certainly had no idea where the cleaning products were.

"Sandor? What's wrong?" Nine asked his Cepan who was aggressively wiping out their white marble counter. He had been through a lot with him so the number of things that could surprise him was close to zero, but this was new and really unlike him.

He stopped his obsessive cleaning that drowned the counter with bubbles and acid and turned to Nine. "Do you remember Vancouver? Remember that I mentioned a girl named Devektra?" he asked, almost shouting. 

Nine nodded right away and thought he could never forget what happened in Vancouver. It was more than five years ago when Sandor was sweating to death in a tattered bed at the end of some road and between going in and out of consciousness and he muttered a name Nine didn't know if he heard before. He didn't elaborate on this girl named Devektra, except that he knew on Lorien and that he kissed her on the Quartermoon night.

"Well, she's here," he said. "and she's coming."


	2. Truce

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> vek and sandor finally talk about their fight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> basically, vek sees sandor got a message on his phone. she's about to give it to him when he turns all protective and she finds out he has been going around with a lot of people over the years. she thinks he forgot about her, never cared at all, and they fight. about a week after they get to the penthouse, and this is how the fight ends

Alone, Devektra sat on the white leather couch, staring at the carpet on the pale tiles as she took a sip from her coffee. Sunlight came from the ceiling-to-floor window, illuminating some of the dust floating in the air. She could feel every inch of the fabric as she sat on the edge, not leaning back, as well as every moving muscle in her body. 

This place was not what she expected. She never imagined the Sandor she knew would settle down in one of the most crowded cities in the world, in a penthouse on the 100th floor, living peacefully for almost five years. She also didn't expect that the warm welcome she received would turn to ashes, to find out that he hasn't spared a thought of her in years. 

It had been five days since their fight, in this living room. Five days of the world she thought of shattering, of avoiding him in every hour of the day, hoping her nephew wouldn't hate her, and getting sad, sorry looks from her friends. None of this was what she wanted. She wanted to find Sandor, get the Garde together, feel safe for a while. She wanted to find him and Nine, the only people she knew before Lorien fell.

It had no use. Sandor would never speak to her again. She needed to make peace or get out.

Footsteps came from behind, then the sound of liquid being poured into a cup. Her heart skipped a beat and she straightened, even more than before. She knew who it was, without turning back.

Sandor gazed at her as he filled his cup with whiskey, tired and wary. He barely slept last night, had barely been sleeping the whole week, and his eyes were aching. He saw her bring her cup to her lips, slowly, carefully. It wasn't fair. She shouldn't feel like this, walking on eggs in his home. It wasn't right.

"You're right," he spoke, and it felt as if his voice was loud enough to fill the whole room, though he barely raised it. Right about what, he wasn't quite certain. Everything. Yelling at him, accusing him, not talking to him. "I'm sorry, Devektra. I am," he said, and disappeared down the corridor. 

Her blood boiled. She took a long breath, steeling herself, her hands shaking wrapped around her cup. She set it down and strode towards his little office- that was where he would be, for sure.

She flung the door open, let it shut behind her, and slammed her hands on his desk. "What was that?" 

He held her gaze, refusing to look away, and a hint of fear passed in his eyes, before turning into anger. He slid his hands underneath the desk, curled into fists. His glass was half empty. She felt the anger ripping through her veins as she looked into his eyes.

"An apology, Devektra," he said, his voice tight. Then, more softly, "I'm sick of fighting."

She took a step back, and another, until her back was almost pressed against the wall. Feeling cold suddenly, she brought her arms around herself. Sandor continued to stare at her with those green eyes, unyielding. 

His voice calmed something within her, or maybe broke it, tore it apart. Tears burned her eyes and began to spill-free, and before she knew it, she was sobbing. "I'm so sorry," she said between choked breaths, and covered her mouth with her hand. "I am so sorry, I was awful to you."

It all came rushing back then, and she recalled how sharp he turned when he saw his phone in her hands, how she yanked it away. The screaming, most from her side, the tears on her face. 

"You weren't-" he began, glancing down at the desk.

"No, no," she cut him off, and everything became clear at once. "I yelled at you, I humiliated you at your own house, I-I was awful," she shook her head as Sandor inched closer, still not looking at her, and put his hands on her shoulders. "You don't- you were right. You don't owe me anything."

He didn't answer, only lead her to the couch at the end of the room, and slumped there. When he looked up, his eyes were full of tears. "I'm sorry too. I should have told you. Maybe not right away, but I should have." A tear streamed down his cheek, and he sighed. "None of this was what I wanted. There wasn't a single day I didn't think of you, Devektra. I never stopped."

Another tear fell on her face, and on his as well. With her hand shaking, she took his, and watched her thumb stroking his wrist. "Do you think- do you think we can start over?" 

He held her hand tighter, letting out a shallow breath, and as he came closer she thought he might kiss her, but he only pressed his forehead to hers. "Yes," he nodded. "Yes."

Vek sighed, the corners of her lips curling in a faint smile, and threw herself on him.


End file.
